


Don't Trust the Geek in Apartment 4B

by virgo_writer



Series: Song of Myself (i contain multitudes) [3]
Category: The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 18:32:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19836100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virgo_writer/pseuds/virgo_writer
Summary: Even Moma wasn’t backwards enough to think that two adult siblings living together was an acceptable solution to Sheldon’s roommate problem, but that didn’t stop her from making it so. AU





	Don't Trust the Geek in Apartment 4B

**Author's Note:**

> I have no explanation, except that Missy is my favourite underutilised character.

**i. new neighbour**

_“What if they end up with a toddler who doesn’t know if he should use a differential or an integral to solve the area under a curve?”_

Missy sighed, exasperated and tired, wondering why she’d even bothered asking the question. She’d just wanted to know what he was doing at the sperm bank – that was it – and it had sent him off on some tangent about false promises and Star Something statues and she was no closer to an answer now than when he’d begun his tirade ten minutes ago. That was Sheldon for you – never gave you a direct answer when a meandering tale of summer evenings in Athens would do.

“Looks like someone’s finally movin’ to Louise’s place,” she said, opting to change the subject rather than answer his question.

Sheldon observed the workers trying to manoeuvre an oversized leather chaise into the elevator and sniffed pointedly before heading to collect their mail. Taking to the stairs, she left him to his own devices – surely he couldn’t get into too much trouble between the lobby and the apartment.

About halfway up the stairs, she passed what she presumed to be their new neighbour. He was short (basically everyone was from her perspective), bespectacled, and wearing at least twice as many layers as just about anyone else in all of Pasadena. She recognised a kindred spirit when she saw one.

She smiled welcomingly as they passed one another, and then bit back a laugh as he nearly stumbled down the stairs.

_~ 30 minutes later_

“Missy, this is Drs Leonard Hofstadter and Rajesh Koothrappali, and Mr Howard Wolowitz,” Sheldon announced as he pointed to each of the men in kind – first to the new neighbour she’d passed by in the stairs and then two equally geeky newcomers.

“They will be joining us for dinner.”

Missy nodded, knowing better than to question this kind of good fortune. Instead she grabbed her keys and headed for the door, calling over her shoulder as she left, “I’ll go get us some pizza.”

But first she had a phonecall to make.

“Moma, it’s Shelly,” she said urgently, keeping her voice low. “Moma, I think Sheldon just made a friend.”

**ii. mail call**

“This is unacceptable,” Sheldon said as Missy closed the door on their new neighbour. “This is the third time this week.”

“Oh, Shelly,” she said, bringing the pile of ‘misplaced’ mail to his desk so he could sort it to his very precise specifications. For a genius, he sure could be clueless sometimes.

He turned back to his computer and continued the tirade, not seeming to understand that he was missing something. “I will be sending the USPS a strongly worded email,” he said, completely serious. “I expect this kind of thing form Gerry, but Steve has always been an exemplary mailman.”

To her own chagrin, Missy actually found herself feeling sorry for her clueless brother and their persistent neighbour. “How ‘bout I have a talk with Steve?” she suggested, finding a way to appease Sheldon and ensure that their mail ended up where it was supposed to. “I’m sure it will clear itself right up.”

“That would be satisfactory,” he said with a sniff.

“Tonight is Halo Night,” he said a few moments later, turning in his seat this time.

“I know, Shelly.” She grimaced and tried to keep her frustration under control. He was her brother and god knows she loved him for the special little person he was. But sometimes he tested her patience.

He didn’t say anything. Just eyed her mustard coloured sweater disdainfully.

“There’s nothing I can do about it, Shelly,” she said, her voice rising despite herself. This time her voice was rife with exasperation. “We’re down a waitress and I’ve tried everyone I can think of.

“Why don’t you see if Leonard and his friends wanna play with you?” she suggested, half sarcastic. Only as soon as she said it she realised it was kind of brilliant. She didn’t dislike playing Halo with her brother, but she also knew there were other things she’d rather do with her Wednesday nights. Thinking it might sweeten the deal she added, “Four people is enough to play teams, right?”

“Correct,” he said, turning back to his computer screen. “Do you have Leonard’s personal email? If not I can use his work email, although it is not a precedent I want to set.”

God, she wanted to slap her brother sometimes. “Shelly, he lives across the hall. Just walk over there and ask him.”

“Fine,” Sheldon answered, standing with the air of someone who had been gravely mistreated. “I suppose while I’m over there I might as well ask him about Halo.”

She opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, but abruptly shut it.

Sometimes – with Sheldon – it was better not to ask.

**iii. F.R.I.E.N.D.S**

“I rather miss our old neighbour.”

The words were so sudden and out of the blue that Missy started out of her own thoughts and eyed her brother suspiciously. 

“You do?” she asked, her expression dubious. It certainly _looked_ like her brother – same comic book/plaid pants combo he always wore and the exact same haircut he’d sported since he was 7 years old – but the sentiment was so unlike Sheldon that she could only assume that the plot of one of his favourite shows had come to life, and he’d been replaced by some borg, or body snatcher, or whatever it was that would make Sheldon _miss_ another person.

He gave a huff of annoyance, as though her response was an unexpected inconvenience, and capped the whiteboard marker in his hand with the unconscious delicacy of an action done a thousand times before.

“Indeed,” he said, almost primly as he turned to face her.

“While I concede that we had little in common – myself an esteemed theoretical physicist and he a transvestite with a skin condition –“ he began, barging on despite his show of reluctance, “there was a certain sense of security in having a police officer in the building.”

“Really, Shelly,” she sighed exasperated, rolling her eyes. Knowing that he would only continue, she turned her attention back to the magazine in her lap – part out of spite and part out of the need to have something to occupy her hands so that she didn’t try to shake some sense into him. As per usual, or at least more often than not, the nuances of the tone of her voice and gesture went unnoticed.

“What more, he was very fastidious about the cleanliness of his apartment,” he said in a way that made fastidious sound like a compliment and not a word you used when what you really wanted to say was ‘uptight bitch’.

“But I think what I really miss about ‘Louis/Louise’ is the way he kept to himself.”

Although she knew better, Missy lifted her gaze from the magazine to see Sheldon giving her a pointed look – eyes wide, mouth pursed, and neck extended while he tipped his head toward their front door. The gesture was rather unnecessary. As if they both weren’t fully aware of the pacing and mumbling that had been happening outside their front door for the last 20 minutes.

She fumed internally at the implied reprimand. Like she was somehow to blame.

“Just ignore him,” she suggested, turning determinedly back to her magazine. “He’ll give up eventually.”

“That seems unlikely,” Sheldon scoffed. “The irregular length of his paces is interfering with my through processes.

“It is _maddening,”_ he said dramatically. “How can anyone stand such chaos?”

At her wits end, she pulled the pages of her magazine together with an unsatisfying slap that made her wish she’d been reading one of Sheldon’s books on time instead. She stood and made her way to the door, pulling it open to reveal their neighbour – one Leonard Hofstadter – standing outside with his hand raise and poised to knock.

“Oh, hey Missy,” he said, quickly pulling his hand away and putting it awkwardly behind his back, before shoving both hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Hi, Leonard,” she replied, forcing a welcoming smile.

He looked at her with an expression full of hope that turned her smile brittle with pity and displeasure.

“I’m actually just on my way out,” she said, hoping that she could delay the inevitable, even if it was just until tomorrow.

Of course, Leonard ruined her ploy by offering to walk her down to her car and there wasn’t really anything she could say to that. It was the sort of thing Moma would think of as gentlemanly.

“Shell, do you need me to grab anything form the store?” she called as she grabbed her keys.

Sheldon, who had turned back to his whiteboard now that the irregular pacing problem had been resolved, shook his head. “I am running low on cumin and fish sauce, but I have a sufficient portion of each to tide me over until our regularly scheduled grocery shop.”

She waved goodbye at the back of his head as she shut the door, giving herself a moment longer before she had to deal with Leonard. When she turned around, Leonard was almost right in front of her face and she had suppress a squeak of surprise.

“So, uh, Missy,” he begun, pairing a too wide smile with kicked puppy eyes. “I was wondering if you had any plans for dinner.”

“For tonight?” Missy asked, internally wincing. She quickly ran over all the ways that she could let him down in a way that wouldn’t mess things up between Leonard and Sheldon.

“Well, it doesn’t inherently imply tonight . . .” he began, going off on some long winded, totally unnecessary explanation on semantics. There was a part of her that thought that sort of thing might have been cute if she hadn’t grown up with someone like Sheldon who made it hard to interrupt the nervous prattle as anything but peacocking.

Missy let him continue, and when he didn’t specifically mention anything about this being a ‘date’, she decided that she could get away with being deliberately obtuse. “It’d be great to have dinner with all you guys,” she said, putting on a pleasant smile, “but I’ve actually got plans tonight with Sheldon.

Leonard gave her a confused look, kicked puppy turning into bewildered puppy. “With your brother?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I know it’s weird, but we kinda have a Friday tradition,” she said with a shrug. “We have a ‘games night’ and Sheldon makes TexMex. It’s vintage video games this week, and we’re going to play some James Bond video game that he’s been looking forward to for some reason.”

Leonard’s confusion turned to curiosity. “Golden Eye or Tomorrow Never Dies?”

“The first one I think,” she said, before adding, “you guys can join us if you like.”

“Yeah,” Leonard agreed, “that actually sounds kind of awesome.”

“Cool, I’ll see you guys around seven,” she said, then hastily made her way down the stairs before Leonard remembered he was planning to walk her to the car. And just like that, she had another playdate for her oversized toddler of a twin brother. If only she could manager her own personal life quite so successfully.

**iv. call of distress**

Sheldon was aghast as he walked into the kitchen, nearly crying out as he saw Missy reach towards the high-fibre end of the cereal shelf.

“Missy, what are you doing?” he asked as he hurried over to her, his voice just shy of squawking.

She frowned at him, which was fair on her part given that it was Sunday afternoon and she had Meemaw’s special recipe book laid out on the bench along with a variety of ingredients. Still, she offered an explanation. “I’m making Meemaw’s crispy chicken.”

He shook his head, weighing up his choices before landing on the lesser of an infinite number of evils. “You have to make something else.”

Missy stopped short, thrown by the unexpected changed in routine. “I already defrosted the chicken, Shelly,” she protested, her tone slightly raised. “If I make something else it’ll throw off the whole rotation by four weeks.”

“Then you’ll have to go to the store,” he offered as an alternative, attempting to adapt to the changing circumstances. “You don’t have the ingredients.”

“I have the ingredients,” Missy replied, her tone stern as she waved her hand over the array of wet and dry ingredients laid out on the bench. She reached again towards his cereal shelf. “All I need is the bran flakes.”

“You can’t have them,” he said, moving faster than he’d thought he was capable of moving in order to get between her and his cereal.

She sent him a look that was as menacing as the one’s she used to send him when he tried to experiment on her barbie dolls.

“I need them,” he said, nearly whining in distress. “If you use them there will be none for my breakfast tomorrow.”

Her expression changed at his words, the hard edges of menace softening with concern. “What’s wrong, Shelly?” she asked.

He sniffed, turning his head so that his unconscious reflexes wouldn’t give him away. “Nothing is wrong,” he assured haughtily. “I simply wish to ensure my continuing digestive health.”

“Has your tummy been upset?” his sister pressed, un-fooled by his attempted subterfuge.

He rolled his eyes at the colloquial turn of phrase. “I have experienced some digestive distress,” he corrected. “But that is not of your concern.”

“Do you wanna tell me anyway?” his sister offered.

The corner of his mouth twitched with the temptation to lay his concerns at her feet and let her do with them as she may, but he shook his head instead. The unsaid words were bitter in his mouth, and he felt his stomach roll again with discomfort.

And then the words burst out unheeded.

“I have seen you cause bodily harm for lesser infractions than those that Howard Wolowitz commits on a near daily basis,” he said to his sister, his voice rising in decibels of distress with every word. “Leonard is little better, and yet you do not rebuke him the way that you would any other man that tried to pursue you despite contrary indications of interest. Rajesh is mostly harmless, given his inability to speak to women, but even he –“

He cut himself off with a shake of his head, finally putting it all into plain words. “I don’t like the way they look at you, Missy,” he said firmly, eyes narrowed as he considered the three men.

“Look at you acting like a brother that actually cares about my well-being,” she said in a sugary tone.

“Hardly,” he muttered with another sniff and twitch of his mouth.

He felt sure that he had said the wrong thing, as Missy suddenly wrapped him in a hug and gave him an inexplicable look. “I can take care of myself, Shelly,” she said in a tone that was patient and gentle. “If Howard or Leonard or even Raj go too far, you can believe that I’ll let them know.

“Now,” she said as she stepped away from him, “I’m gonna head to the store so we have enough bran flakes for the rest of the week. Can you start on the chicken while I’m out?”

He nodded and she left for the shops, leaving him the task of butchering the chicken.

And despite her assurances, his stomach continued to churn.


End file.
